


The Last Siege

by femmaed



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bows & Arrows, Cussing, Diary/Journal, End of the World, Family, Fantasy, Fighting, Gen, Gods, High Fantasy, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV First Person, Swordfighting, Swords, War, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 05:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmaed/pseuds/femmaed
Summary: The world was ending and the Old Gods chose six, oh uh, seven to stop it. Plucked from vastly different cultures and forced together, they must learn to work together, fight together, live together, and quite possibly, die together. How fun.





	1. let us see how the story begins.

My eyes opened, awake for some reason. Syren was attached to my side, despite my room being across the hall. I sat up and eyed the room. A figure stood at the desk set across from my bed and seemed to be flipping through papers. I slowly stand, making sure to be quiet. I grab my sword, ever-present next to my bed. The figure paused, lifting his head. I steadied the tip of the blade at his back. He chuckled. “You laugh with a sword a mere breath away from your heart?” I asked. 

He turned and I stepped back. His eyes were an unnatural blue, glowing in the dark of my room. “Hello, Nerys. You look a lot like your mother.” I sneered. 

“Don’t speak of her as if you knew her." 

"Of course I did. Everybody knew Queen Venara.” He began walking and I kept the blade at his chest, following him with my eyes. He came to a stop at the foot of my bed and the moonlight finally revealed his face. 

 _Ethereal_. That was the only word that came to mind. I wasn’t sure how else to describe him. Handsome was another that briefly wormed its way into my head. I glared.

“My name is Ienar, God of Humankind.” I arched my eyebrow. 

“Yeah. Right.” He shrugged. 

“Believe me or not. The world is ending, Nerys and my siblings have chosen their champions. It’s time for me to choose mine.” He settled against my bed, staring at me. 

“And, what? That’s me?" 

"Correct.” I frowned. 

“I’m the champion for the human race to save the world from ending?” He nodded, but that wasn’t an answer. My brother sat up suddenly, eyes wide and unfocused. 

“Rys?" 

"Go back to sleep Sy.” He murmured and rolled out of bed, dragging his feet as he came around to me. 

“No,” he muttered into my shoulder as he pressed into my back. Ienar smiled. 

“Well. I suppose it’s not too much to say I choose two champions.” Light suddenly encased us and I screamed. 

* * *

The first thing to come into view was a deck. Then people. I screamed again. The hardwood came into contact with my chest and I struggled to take in a breath. I blinked and scrambled to get away from my screaming brother. No use. He slammed the full weight of a grown man, onto my back. 

“Sy. Sy, please get off.” I struggled to say. He groaned and shifted on me. “Sy!” I bit out. He got up and rolled over. I stand, steadying myself on the ever loyal mast of the ship. 

“Thank you for always being there for me, sis,” Syren mumbled. I glared down at him. 

“Fuck you. Fuck you and your dumb heavy ass.” I brushed the dust off my front and stared up at the sky. “That all you got?” I yelled. 

> _Remind me to never yell at Ienar again._   **Got ya**. 

A book slammed into my face, followed by my sword, my shield and a bag of clothes. Syren’s bow and quiver along with a bag dropped on him. I rubbed my sore nose and picked up the book. 

As it were, it was actually a journal. I flipped through the blank pages, looking for some sort of clue. I flipped back to the first page. 

 _ **Write a great story. Tell the world how you saved them. Make your mother proud. Ienar.**_  I bit my bottom lip. I looked up and stiffened. 

“Oh. Hello.”

* * *

I sat back in the large, fluffy chair. The captain, Shyrros, glared at my feet but said nothing, as I leaned back in their chair, putting my feet on the desk. Syren fiddled with a globe on the desk. 

“So. The seven of us were chosen to save the world?” Syren asked, eyeing the other. Shyrros nodded. 

“Yep. Though, it was just supposed to be one for each god.” They eyed Syren, who either ignored them or didn’t notice the look. I arched an eyebrow. 

“Ienar said "I suppose it’s not too much to say I choose two champions” his words, not mine,“ I responded and stood, stepping around the desk. I moved past Shyrros and their shoulder brushed mine. Screams filled my head and I winced. The moment our shoulders left each other, the screams were silenced. I stared at them, before gesturing for my brother. 

The others were gathered in a loose circle, one sitting on a box sharpening a knife, another leaning against the railing, talking to two more. Shyrros stepped out after us and cleared their throat. 

"Hey, hey. These are the humankind champions, Nerys and Syren.” I waved and Syren winked his eye at them. 

“Hello. I’m Neda, the nymphkind champion.” The woman that spoke on the railing smiled.  

“Akreq. Sirenkind champion.” The woman next to her offered a grin. 

“Dírlórné, elfkind champion. A pleasure meeting you.” The man bowed, his short hair showing his pointed ears and magic-ink on his neck. 

“Eirina, the dragonkind champion. Though I must ask,” the woman on the box said, looking up from her knife, “why two humans? Because one is so incompetent?” She jeered with a wicked grin. 

> **Yeah. Erin was an asshole.**   _Was?_   **Is.**  

I glared at her. 

“And I am Shyrros. The nephlikind champion.” They walked past us, folding their arms. Nephli? I stared at them, recalling the screams. 

“Who were they?” The others seemed unaware of what I spoke of, but Shyrros offered a sad smile. 

“The people you’ve killed. Intentionally or unintentionally.” I nodded. 

“That’s a lot." 

"Imagine hearing them every day, all day.” They offered a small smile but it didn’t reach their eyes. Sorrow glinted in their ruby eyes. I lowered my gaze. I felt a sudden weight in my pocket and I reached in, pulling the journal out. I flipped it open. I grinned. 

“I need a pen." 

* * *

I tossed my head back and struck out, hitting my assailant in the face. "Fuck!” He roared. I sat up, tears running down my face. Syren rolled away from me, clutching his face and a broken nose. I looked around and a light suddenly flickered on. Neda stood next to the bed, worry set in her beautiful face. The other’s rolled to look at us, various looks of worry, confusion, and annoyance. 

“Nerys?” Neda asked, sitting on the bed. I stared at her. 

“Am I a bad person?” I asked. She paused. 

“I’m not sure,” she said, staring at me. “Are you?” I looked at her for a few moments. 

“Maybe.”


	2. tested patience for humans.

> **What was the point of this again?**   _To document our adventure._   **Well, you’re more of a writer than I am, so I don’t know why I’m in this too.**   _Because Ienar said humans tell the best stories._ **Eh. Questionabl** e.

I lift my arms and watch the ocean-swallow dive and float above me. “Food.” Eirina snarls from her spot behind me, sitting on her box of growls and sharp knives.

“All you humans do is complain about eating and sleeping. You are like hatchlings.” I shift to be able to see her. She’s upside down to me, long white hair put into a tight bun. Her fangs were visible and her magic pulsed from her throat, a sharp blue. I narrow my eyes and roll over, eyeing her.

“Well sorry, I can’t survive without food or sleep for months on end,” I say.

> **Do you think she understood the sarcasm**?  _Nope._

Eirina rolls her eyes, but says nothing, sharpening her knife. “Haven’t you sharpened that one already?”

“No. I have over twelve knives that I need to sharpen. Continued disuse of them makes them dull. And I don’t want a dull knife.” I arch my eyebrow.

“So it’s true. Dragons do like fighting and violence.”

“Not so much like, as we live in it,” She says, the words rolling off her tongue like a purr. I scrunch my nose and stand, shifting with the boat. My stomach flips and turns and dives and floats. It’s a fucking circus. I rush to the railing to throw up. My brother was sitting in the crows nest, forced there by Shyrros. I attempt to climb the rope up, but give up halfway, letting myself hang. I watch as the waves bob and churn, before closing my eyes.

“Bad idea. Why am I so stupid?” I mutter to myself. I swing with the boat, but since I have nothing left in my stomach, I end up dry heaving.

“Rys? What are you doing?”

“Dying.”  

“Okay. Have fun.”

“Syren help me, you bitch!”  

“No.”

“I will find you and I will slaughter you where you stand.”

“Shyrros said no killing.”

“If it were not for the laws of this land-!” I fell. The deck is as hard as it was a few days ago. My back hurts and my ass feels like it just got fucked.

> **How would you know what that feels like?**   _The barracks get cold little bro._   **Oh gross.**   _Don’t “oh gross” me._   _I know you got fucked too_.  **Yeah. But I like dick.**   _Touché._

I glare up at my brother who slowly climbs down and brushes the dust from his pants. “What was that Rys? If not for the laws of this land?”

“I am going to cut your dick off and shove it down your throat.”

“Love you too.”  

“Alright dumbasses, time to get up and at ‘em!” Shyrros cries over the helm. I twist my body on the deck, watching them. “We got a ship at four o’clock, human!” I twist again. Yep. I watch the large ship turn as the other’s get into places, the cannons aimed at the enemy ship. I tense. I stand and grab Syren and tug him to the door that leads below decks.

“Rys-!”

“Shut up! That’s Mirthstride’s ship!” Syren pales.

> **Not that it means much, we’re already pretty pale.**   _We could be vampires._ **Yeah.**

“Oh shit.”

“Oh, shit is right lil’ bro. What do we do?” Syren looks around. I had us just below deck, the stairs rocking as the cannons fire. Syren looks at me. A grin finds its way on his face. I narrow my eyes. Then it clicks.

> **Our plan was flawless.**   _No, it wasn’t._   **Yeah, it was so flawed even I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.**   _Why the fuck are you lying? You are always lying._ **Mom said I’m a great liar.**   _Mom was using sarcasm, Syren._

We slowly come above deck, watching, careful not to be seen. Our weapons were kept in Shyrros room because they claimed we would not need them until we got to land. They just didn’t want us killing Eirina. I find my sword relatively easily. It was the only one in there. Syren, on the other hand, was having trouble. He couldn’t find his quiver.

“Who confiscates our weapons and then doesn’t keep them together?”

“That’s a big word for you bro. I’m proud.”

“What? ‘Together’?” I sigh. I buckle my sheath to my hip and lift my shield. The weight is comforting to me, heavy on my hip and arm. I turn to my brother, who finally found his quiver. He was counting the arrows and looks up.

“Let’s kick some ass.”

> _It didn’t work as planned but hey, it worked._   **Yeah. Sure. If you can call almost dying “working.”**   _I take what I can get bro._

I threw the door open and I slam my shield into a soldier’s face. “Sorry.” The next comes quickly and I swing my sword. His flesh gives easily under the steel. Blood drenches the deck and my boots. I move fast, slamming into soldiers. A sharp sound at my right ear before the soldier in front of me had an arrow embedded in his eye. I kicked him away.

I lunge for the next one and nearly went overboard. I drop my shield and toss him over. Defenseless against three more soldiers, I decided to do the next best thing. My father always said he feared the day he was on the receiving end of one of my punches. I swung. It connected with a face and I felt the bones snap and give way. Blood poured onto my hand and I wound up to strike again. A man tackled me and I slid with his momentum.

Syren launched three more arrows before relying on his daggers, his bow collapsing and was slid away until next time.

If I was brute force, shouldering through the masses and swing at Direwolves, my brother was the sly shadow, slipping past men and slicing throats without a word. He slid between two men and sliced through their armor, knife blades finding sensitive skin and organs. They fell and Syren moved to his next victim.

I stepped back from the fight and took a breath. I turned. Neda was close by, her lean body swaying with the ship as Akreq tried to dislodge the other ship from ours. The rush of blood and excitement through my veins made me immune to the rocking of the ship and I was glad for it.

> _How embarrassed would you be if you fought and threw up?_   _I would dig a hole, lie in the hole, scream in the hole, and die in the hole._ **Huh.**

I turned back and met sharp hazel eyes. They were lit with confusion as if trying to place my face somewhere. Nivek Mirthstride, in all his pale, ugly, pompous glory, trying to place  _my_  face.

> _I was embarrassed that I knew him._   **Who isn’t?** _True._

I brought a hand up and he tilted his head, his long brown hair flowing in the wind. Confusion clouded his eyes and I grinned. I flipped my middle finger up in a gesture I knew my mother would kill me if she saw me doing it. Anger made Nivek’s pale face a ripe ― and ugly ― raspberry. I stuck my tongue out and Akreq finally gained enough momentum of tides and pushed the ship away.

I lower my hand and Syren comes up next to me. “Nice, Rys.”

“Thanks, Sy.” He wraps his arm around my waist and I lean against him.

“Nerys?” Neda came up on my other side, tilting her head in confusion.

“Hm?”

“What did that hand gesture mean?”


End file.
